


The one that got away

by Black98



Category: Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Drama, M/M, Male Slash, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6304630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black98/pseuds/Black98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>8 years after Top Gun Maverick and Iceman meet again under different circumstances. Will Maverick finally make his move?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**The one that got away**

**Prologue**

The Persian gulf 1994

In a dogfight everything moves fast. A churning adrenaline rushed chaos that leaves no room for hesitation. Flashes of colour, stressed out shouting over the radio, the roaring of jet engines. The smell of burning debris when a missile found its mark and an F-14 tomcat exploded in a burst of flames and thick black smoke.

 

Tom Kazansky could feel his heart thundering in his chest like a machinegun firing an endless supply of rounds. His hands were sweating, blood rushing in his ears.

 

“He´s above us! He is above us!”

 

“Ice, WATCH OUT!”

 

His RIO was in hysterics, and with good reason. They were alone, their wingman having been blasted out of the sky by a missile about 5 seconds earlier. He yanked the jet into a hard right, barely avoiding a missile lock only to swerve back again to avoid another incoming Mig. Backup was on its way, but he had no idea when they would arrive.

 

With a sense of finality he forced himself to calm down, control his breathing. Inhale deeply, exhale, inhale……force the jet into another crazy spin as the Mig switched to guns, missing by less than an inch…..exhale.

 

His call sign was iceman for fucks sake, he could do this.

 

There had been six of them to begin with, Ice had gotten two before his wingman panicked, lost his cool in a situation which was already out of control, and was shot down. What was supposed to be an uneventful morning patrol had turned into an absolute nightmare. The enemy was getting more aggressive, pushing back after last weeks successful airstrike.

 

Another round of gunfire blasted past the cockpit, slamming into the hull on the left side this time. An alarm went off on the control panel. He ignored it, increased speed and tricked the attacker by suddenly breaking hard and abruptly changing direction. Everything was a blur of twists, spins and crazy moves, whatever was necessary to keep them from getting a missile lock on him.

 

Had it not been for the lack of breathing room he would have laughed. Ice had learned the hard way that not every situation could be solved by a text-book move. In a dogfight stuff happened, and sometimes instinct was the only thing you had left to go on. Not that he would ever admit this out loud. Either way his flying would never be as reckless as that of a certain person.

 

Strange noises were coming from the engine, a hollow vibration that resonated through the entire hull of the jet. He was starting to loose speed.

 

Not good.

 

That last round must have hit something he thought absently, shutting down the left engine. The worrying vibrating sound disappeared, but he was now very vulnerable. The Mig´s were already smaller and more agile than his F-14. With one engine……the odds had not been in their favour to begin with, he´d rather not think about what they were now.

 

“Shit!” His RIO cursed over the radio, voice laced with a combination of panic and incredulity.

 

“We are….we are gonna die Ice, are we not? We are….”

 

“Shut up!” Ice hissed through clenched teeth, yanking the F-14 left and right in a strange zigzagging pattern and miraculously avoiding another round of gunfire.

 

He was really flying like a lunatic now he reflected, adrenaline spiking as he was barely able to pull the jet out of another spin, more alarms blinking on the control panel. If he kept this up chances were they would be killed by his own crazy flying rather than a missile. Then again his current options were pretty limited.

 

Somewhere at the back of his mind he registered that backup had finally arrived. He should have been relieved, but all he felt was an odd sense of anxious indifference. His heart still pounding in his chest, thundering in his ears.

 

Then the other engine gave out, dark grey smoke flaring out behind them. A terrible screeching sound resonated through the cockpit, and then everything became eerie silent as the F-14s nose tipped downward.

 

The thought came unbidden

 

Is this how I die?


	2. Chapter 2

**The one that got away**

**Chapter 1**

Miramar, California 1994

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell tapped his fingers impatiently against his desk, not knowing what to think, or feel for that matter. Suddenly he was sweating, muscles coiling with a heady combination of excitement and anxiety, his flight suit feeling several numbers too small.

 

The transfer papers were on his desk, patiently awaiting his signature. He swallowed, gripping the edge of a chair for support, knuckles whitening.

 

“Pull yourself together Mav!” He hissed under his breath at himself, eyes yet again drifting over to the folder resting on his desk.

 

This was unbelievable, he hadn´t seen the guy in years, and yet the mere mention of his name was enough to induce a panic attack. Kazansky, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. He grabbed the papers with unsteady hands, quickly rifling through them for what had to be the thousandth time.

 

Shot down, every fighter pilots nightmare. Ice had been shot down over the Persian gulf, lost his wingman. Unwelcome memories flooded his mind, and he struggled to push them away. Don´t go there he told himself, don´t fucking go there. Even now, after 8 years, he still remembered every glaring detail of the accident that had ultimately ended up causing Goose´s death. The smell of burning metal, the crunch when Goose´s body hit the canopy, it was burned into his mind forever. A constant reminder of something he´d rather just forget.

 

He sighted, glanced down at the folder again.

 

According to Kazansky´s CO he wouldn´t be able to fly for at least 6 months. Mav had not gotten the specifics but he was under the impression that Ice had been hurt pretty badly. Well, Top Gun is always guaranteed a teaching position, should he want one, Mav reflected somewhat ruefully. It seemed Iceman had requested a temporary transfer until he was cleared for active duty, and Maverick didn´t really know how he was supposed to feel about it.

 

After Vipers retirement a couple of years back he had been in charge of Top Gun, something he was now surprisingly comfortable with. And he knew for certain that he was doing a damn good job of it. He had a great team under his command, he enjoyed teaching, he got to fly on a regular basis. Being in charge of Top Gun was a good gig, a real good one.

 

For Ice to come here…..it would disrupt everything. Screw up the dynamic.

 

Screw him up.

 

8 years, 8 fucking years.

 

He closed his eyes, unable to supress the memory of Ice´s trademark smirk and sharp gaze from that first day of class. At the time he had already known for a while that he was bisexual, and the moment he locked eyes with Tom “Iceman” Kazansky he had fallen so hard he didn´t know what hit him.

 

He had been tempted to act on it god knows how many times, but there was always something that got in the way. Be it Charlie, Slider or his own fear of rejection. Their rivalry had served to complicate things even further, and after Goose´s death…..well, it had taken him the better part of a year to pull himself together and get his own life under control. By then Iceman was long gone, deployed somewhere off the coast of Turkey.

 

Maverick awkwardly rubbed his temples in a feeble attempt at supressing a headache.

 

Ice was returning, and that represented a number of interesting possibilities. Sleeping with a co-worker was a terrible idea, he knew that. Hell, he didn´t even know whether Iceman was interested in men to begin with.

 

Back in Top Gun he had been under the impression that Ice didn´t really care either way as long as the sex was great. Then again Slider had spent the majority of the five weeks trying to get into Ice´s pants without much success. Which left Maverick pretty much at a loss.

 

Part of him felt crazy for thinking about this, Iceman wasn´t even here yet.

 

Still, if the past 8 years had taught him anything it was that he had two major regrets in his life. One being Goose´s death, the other letting Ice leave. He should have tried to talk to him, see if there was something more there.

 

Because he knew there was something there. The heated glares, the strangling tension that constantly seemed to ignite sparks between them whenever they looked at each other. The fights, the heady adrenaline rushed confrontations in the locker room. Yes, Maverick knew there was something there, he just didn´t know quite what that something was.

 

What he did know on the other hand, what he had come to realize, was that his feelings for Ice were more than a schoolboy crush. They had not seen or heard from each other since Top Gun, 8 years. And yet he couldn´t forget the other man, couldn´t stop thinking about him, wondering what he would look like now, in his early thirties.

 

As Goose would have said; Ice was the one that got away.

 

 

***

 

 

On Thursday He left Top Gun early, headed for the airport. Typically enough you could count on Iceman to resurface at the worst possible time. Maverick was on his way to pick up his son, who would stay over the weekend. Kazansky was due to arrive sometime tomorrow, and Mav´s nerves were in shambles.

 

He and Charlie never married, but they had a son together, Nick who would turn 6 this year, named after Goose of course. Maverick loved the little bugger to death, but he´d admit that things had been difficult after he and Charlie split up three years ago. She was working at the Pentagon, some high clearance intelligence shit. Nick stayed with her most of the time, only coming to be with Mav a long weekend every second month. Needless to say Charlie absolutely resented sending him away to visit. He was already trying to work out how to handle the inevitable phone call a half hour from now, where he would have to assure her that yes, of course he had remembered to pick Nick up at the airport, and no, he wouldn´t even dream about serving microwave pizza for dinner.

 

Nick came sprinting the moment he spotted Mav, who greeted him with a bone crushing hug.

 

“We are having pizza for dinner right?!” He exclaimed, jumping excitedly up and down as Maverick grabbed his luggage from the flight attendant.

 

“Well…”

 

Nick looked at him, face lighting up in an infectious grin.

 

“I promise I won´t tell mum!”

 

Mav burst out laughing, the tension from earlier dissipating in an instant.

 

 

***

 

 

Friday arrived much sooner than Maverick would have liked. He had dropped Nick off with old Mrs. Denham next door who would watch him for a few hours. Mav was only working till lunch, but still, part of him felt bad. He could have taken the whole day, he was the boss after all. Jester would have been happy to cover for him.

 

But no, he had chosen not to.

 

Because of Kazansky, because Iceman would arrive in about an hour and somehow he just couldn´t wait till Monday to see him. It was ridiculous really, that he was ditching his son just to go and see Ice.  

 

He steeled himself, strolled into his office expecting to have at least a half hour slouching in his chair and sipping scorching hot coffee before he would have to pull himself together.

 

Instead he froze in the door opening, on the verge of having a coronary.

 

Kazansky was standing back facing him, looking forlornly out the window at the melting tarmac. Outside the morning sun was causing the air to ripple with heat as the flight crews hurried to prepare the jets for the next hop.

 

Maverick cleared his throat, struggling to keep his cool as Iceman turned abruptly, grabbing the windowsill for support. A couple crutches were leaned against the wall next to him, and he was avoiding putting weight on his left leg. Sharp icy eyes found his, expression carefully neutral as they sized each other up.

 

Damn he looked good.

 

He hadn´t aged a day. Mav thought he looked even better now than eight years ago. Still blond, tall and athletic, just a tad broader in the shoulders, his features slightly more mature. He was a total heartbreaker, just like back in 86.

 

“Mitchell”, he rasped, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 

Gah, those lips…..

 

“Kazansky” he responded, voice surprisingly even.

 

“Thanks for having me”, Ice said at length, voice low, bordering on hesitant.

 

They looked at each other, and Mav was starting to remember why he sometimes found the other man so unnerving. He could tell when Ice was pleased or when he was furious, but everything in between was a complete mystery. Currently those sharp eyes were watching his every move, cool and assessing.

 

“Coffee?” Mav questioned.

 

Ice nodded, and Mav handed him a cup. It became awkward when they both realized that he had problems keeping himself upright with only one arm on the windowsill and Mav clumsily handed him the crutches, putting both cups down on his desk as Ice wrestled himself into a chair.

 

The indifferent expression was now replaced by one Maverick knew all to well. Supressed irritation, bordering on aggression. 8 years ago they would have been in the locker room gearing up for a confrontation. It was that look, the one that drove Maverick crazy whenever he thought about it. Part rage part something else, something easily mistaken for sexual tension.

 

Ice pursed his lips in distaste, gaze fixed at him as Mav tried to distract himself by sipping his coffee. It was too hot, and it took all the willpower Maverick could muster to stop from coughing all over the place.

 

“It is good to have you back”, Mav said.

 

“We have been short of good instructors here after Viper retired. Good to have someone with recent combat experience”.

 

Ice sent him a look laced with a combination of disbelief and amusement.

 

“Thanks”

 

Mav just nodded. Could this whole thing get any more awkward?

 

“So how are you? Your CO told me you will be grounded for a while”.

 

It was the wrong thing to say. Maverick just couldn´t help himself. Whenever Ice was around he seemed to loose every ounce of social intelligence he possessed. The other man stared at him, lips pressed into a hard line.

 

“6 months”, he said, eyes darkening.

 

Then he fixed Maverick with one of those unnerving stares, eyes narrowing slightly. The message was clear, back off.

 

“How about you? Still with Blackwood?”

 

Something in his tone communicated that he already knew the answer, and Mav felt the familiar surge of rage, the need to do something, anything, to act on years of pent up tension and sexual frustration. No one pushed his buttons the way Ice did, and yet there was nothing he could say about it, because the fucker was too discrete.

 

He ground his teeth.

 

“No, we ended it a couple of years ago”

 

Ice looked at him, handsome features unreadable. “Jester said you have a kid”, he stated.

 

“Yeah, Nick, he turns 6 next month”.

 

“Nick, after Bradshaw”.

 

Maverick simply nodded. “He is a good kid”

 

Ice watched him attentively, his face opening in a slow smile. Mav felt his knees turn to jelly in that same instant, and smiled back, the tense atmosphere dissipating.

 

“Jeez Mav, you grew up, never thought I´d see the day”.

 

“Don´t worry, I´m still dangerous”.

 

They both laughed. God, he was beautiful when he smiled, the icy exterior gone for only a moment. He felt privileged, like he was seeing a part of Ice that no one else knew about. That was only for him.

 

They lapsed into silence again, and on impulse Maverick caught his eyes, smiling.

 

“Hey, you wanna come over tonight? I have Nick this weekend, so we are ordering pizza”

 

Ice looked at him, clearly amused.

 

“Pizza……sure”, he said, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin.

 

 

***

 

The pizza arrived at 7, and precisely 5 minutes later someone knocked on the door. Maverick opened to find Ice perched precariously on his porch, leaning heavily against the crutches.

 

He was in civics, dark jeans and a leather jacket over a plain grey t-shirt. Even his hair was messier than usual, ruffled by the light breeze outside. He looked smoking hot.

 

They nodded at each other, and Mav quickly sidestepped to let Ice past him.

 

“Nice place”, Ice commented, sounding surprisingly sincere.

 

The dynamic was more relaxed, not as strained now that they were in a private setting. Or perhaps it was simply that they had gotten over that initial awkwardness.

 

“Thanks”, Mav responded, leading the way into the kitchen.

 

“I bought it….a couple of years ago”.

 

The words “after Charlie left” were hanging in the air, but Ice said nothing, simply inclined his head in an “I see gesture”.

 

Maverick felt an abrupt stab of anxiousness when Nick came bounding down the stairs to greet them, and glanced discretely at Ice. After inviting him over earlier that day he had been debating weather or not he should leave Nick with Mrs. Denham, but the very moment the idea came to him he felt like the shittiest parent on the planet. Of course he couldn´t just ship Nick off to Mrs. Denham. They only had four days together every second month, and he was intending to make the most of that time, even with Ice there.

 

“Hi there”, Ice said, giving Nick his best toothpaste commercial grin.

 

Nick stared at him, grinning back.

 

“You are very tall”, he exclaimed, tilting his head back to look at Ice.

 

Maverick opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, at a loss of words.

 

“Yeah”, Ice agreed, literally oozing smug satisfaction when he looked at Maverick.

 

Then Nick tugged at Ice´s jacket sleeve, and the two of them sat down next to each other by the kitchen table.

 

“Not fucking funny Kazansky!” Maverick insisted.

 

Ice just smirked, teeth gleaming.

 

“Watch your mouth Mitchell”, he responded, sending Nick a meaningful glance.

 

Mav rolled his eyes and went to the fridge, grabbing a couple of beers for himself and Ice, coke for Nick. To Mavs surprise it turned out Ice was great with kids, or his kid anyway. The two of them talked like they had known each other for ages, and even when Nick started bugging him about the crutches Ice answered with the sort of patience you´d expect from an aging grandmother.

 

“Why do you need crutches?”

 

“I was in an accident”.

 

“What kind of accident?”

 

“I am a pilot, our plane crashed”.

 

“Did you crash the plane?”

 

“Well….sort of”.

 

“Why did it crash?” Nick asked, totally engrossed in the conversation.

 

Ice paused, clearly debating whether or not to answer properly. Mav tensed as well, wondering if this was what Charlie referred to when she insisted that Mav´s home was not a suitable environment for a child. That Nick would grow up too fast if he stayed with Mav permanently.  

 

“We had some engine trouble. But everything was okay in the end”, Ice eventually replied, smiling reassuringly at Nick.

 

Engine trouble my ass Maverick reflected, albeit grateful that Ice had somehow managed to turn the hazards of aerial combat into “engine trouble” for Nick´s sake.

 

“I think it is time you go to bed little man”, Mav interrupted them, sensing Ice´s relief.

 

Nick insisted on hugging Ice goodnight, and then Mav followed him upstairs to ensure that he actually went to bed. He had learned the hard way that kids rarely did what you told them in regards to things like brushing teeth and actually lying down to sleep. Charlie´s scolding from Nicks last visit was still fresh in his mind. He cringed at the memory.

 

He went downstairs again to find Ice leaning against the kitchen counter, helping himself to another beer. Judging from the tautness of his jaw and the tenseness in his arms as he held onto the counter he was having a hard time of it.

 

“Have a seat, I am the host remember”, Mav said cheerfully, quickly approaching him.

 

His hospitality was rewarded with the death glare of the century.

 

“I am not an invalid Maverick”, he snapped, clearly uncomfortable.

 

Mav just arched an eyebrow, offering an arm for support. How Ice had gotten to the fridge without his crutches in the first place was beyond him. They stared at each other, and Ice let out a slow breath before grabbing Mavericks arm, leaning heavily against him.

 

Mav couldn´t remember the last time they had been this close. He could smell Ice´s aftershave, hear his laboured breaths as he struggled to keep himself upright, Mavericks arm his only support. Long elegant fingers were digging into his shoulder, and their noses accidentally touched when Ice finally slumped down in his chair. There was a moment Maverick seriously considered making a move, cool blue eyes on his, Ice still holding tightly onto his arm. Their faces were only inches apart as the air seemed to charge with tension, Ice´s lips slightly parted. Then Ice accidentally bumped into the edge of the table, his face screwed up in a brief flash of pain, and the moment disappeared.

 

Not for the first time Mav wondered how serious his injury was, but he knew better than to ask. Perhaps he could call up Ice´s CO.

 

Maverick quickly sat down opposite him, his pants suddenly feeling very constricting. Part of him couldn´t quite fathom that 8 years had passed since he last saw Ice. He had almost forgotten what it felt like to want someone. Sure, he used to like Charlie, but he wanted Ice, wanted him so bad that he lost all sense when they were around each other. He realized that Charlie didn´t stand a chance in that equation, she never had. Perhaps that was the reason it didn´t work out between them, because deep down he had always desired someone else, someone Charlie had no way of living up to.

 

Ice shrugged out of his leather jacket, revealing a tight grey t-shirt underneath. They drank in silence for sometime, surprisingly comfortable in each others presence, everything considered.

 

“You keep in touch with the old crew from Top Gun?” Maverick asked at length, voice tentative.

 

“Slider calls every now and then”.

 

Ice absently twirled the bottle between two fingers. Maverick was reminded about the pen he always messed around with during class in the old days.

 

“We were stationed together in Turkey for a while”, he continued. “I don´t think combat was his thing. He left after a few months, last I heard he was working as a commercial pilot”.

“Yeah”, Maverick agreed, “This shit is not for everyone”.

 

“You like it at Top Gun?” Ice questioned.

 

Mav shrugged, mulled it over for a while before he answered.

 

“It is a good gig. Sometimes I love it, occasionally I hate it. I don´t know. Things are different with Nick and all”.

 

Ice nodded, gaze softening fractionally. “You have a responsibility”, he stated.

 

They locked eyes, a silent moment of understanding passing between them. It was odd, that out of everyone the infamous Iceman was the one who got him, who realized what impact Nick´s presence had on his life.

 

“How about you, anyone waiting for you at home?” Mav asked, his heart rate increasing as he looked to Ice for an answer.

 

“No one worth mentioning”, Ice responded nonchalantly, shrugging. “The life of a fighter pilot…it is not exactly compatible with having a family”.

 

“Will you go back, when you are…feeling better?”

 

Ice looked at him, hesitation evident in his voice when he answered.

 

“Probably…I…..I feel like I am not quite finished”. He gazed intensely at Maverick for a moment before looking away again. “I don´t wanna end things this way, by being shot down”.

 

“You know you have nothing to prove right?” Mav insisted. “Besides there is no more space left on your uniform for future medals”.

 

Ice smiled, laughed low in his throat. “That how you gonna introduce me to the students on Monday?”

 

“You wish!”

 

Ice left a half hour later, saying that he was tired. Mav helped him down to his car even though he wasn´t allowed to do anything but hover around in the background as Ice positioned the crutches in the trunk and used his arms to hoist himself into the drivers seat.

 

“Thanks for having me”, he said seriously.

 

“Always a pleasure”, Mav responded, smiling. “I´ll see you on Monday”.

 

Ice looked at him, his face splitting in a slow, charming smile. It was that smile, the one from the aircraft carrier all those years ago, when he had told Maverick he could be his wingman.

 

And then he was gone, leaving Mav standing in the street, heart pounding and his pants so tight it was becoming unbearable.

 

Tbc


	3. Chapter 3

**The one that got away**

**Chapter 2**

Miramar, California 1994

Maverick had not been exaggerating when he´d said there was no more space for ribbons and medals on Ice´s uniform. The thing resembled an overly decorated Christmas tree, and the students were suitably awed when he entered the classroom first thing Monday morning.

 

A new class had just arrived, and Mav had decided that Ice would observe him the first few days till he got a feel for it. Unfortunately it quickly became very apparent that this was a crappy arrangement.

 

Ice was a terrible student. It seemed to be physically impossible for him to keep his mouth shut when Maverick was teaching. Their old rivalry flared back to life about 10 seconds into the lesson, when he disagreed with something Maverick said and promptly voiced his concerns out loud. Of course, had he been someone else Mav would just have let it go and simply continued the discussion in his office after class.

 

However this was not some random nobody, it was Tom fucking Kazansky.

 

Thus a heated discussion began, and Maverick completely forgot about the students, anger seeping into his tone. He couldn´t decided on what was more annoying; the fact that deep down he knew that Ice was right, or that technically the bastard outranked him. Captain my ass he thought, inwardly fuming.

 

Twenty minutes later Jester dropped by to ask something, effectively putting an end to the digression as Maverick managed to calm down enough return at least some of his attention back towards the students. Ice just gave him a dark look, leaning back and putting his aviators on. Maverick was quite pleased to identify his expression as a

pout.

 

 

***

 

“My office, now!” Maverick growled after class, looming over Ice who was still seated, crutches leaned against his chair.

 

There was something immensely satisfying about dwarfing the other man, even though he was not standing. Ice gripped tightly onto the edge of the chair, electric blue eyes narrowing in a silent challenge.

 

“Sure thing…..boss”…he said, tone oozing sarcasm.

 

Maverick clenched his fists, tensing. Was it ok to punch a co-worker?

 

Ice just sent him that trademark look, radiating superiority even as he hoisted himself up with his crutches. Suddenly Maverick was the one being dwarfed, and Ice smirked rudely at him, exploiting those extra inches to their fullest as Mav was forced to take a couple of steps back.

 

They glowered at each other for a few tense seconds, before Mav decided to be the bigger person and move their little altercation to his office. He purposefully strode quickly away so that Ice was not able to keep up with him, and when Ice finally arrived his irritated expression was immensely pleasing.

 

“Close the door”, Maverick ordered, catching the flash of rage in Ice´s eyes at being ordered around.

 

Ice kicked the door shut with a resonating bang, a deafening silence making the already strained atmosphere unbearable. Mav glared at Ice, and unlike what he had gotten used to expecting from others the fucker refused to back down, glaring right back with a level of intensity that was giving Maverick a boner.

 

“You stupid fuck!” Maverick hissed. “If you weren´t handicapped I would kick your sorry ass right now!”

 

For once the infamous Iceman was not able to keep his cool, and Mav could see his eyes widen at the insult, before narrowing dangerously.

 

“Why, you little shit! I am not fucking handicapped!”

 

“Oh really!? Then what are those for?”

 

Maverick had gestured at the crutches, knowing that he was pushing back much harder than he should. Still, part of him just couldn´t resist. He wanted to know what Ice would do, how he would act if he lost that irritatingly cool demeanour.

 

“At least I am not mentally challenged”, Ice sneered back, leaning forward on his crutches and threateningly snapping his jaws.

 

Mav had been leaning against the edge of his desk, but the taunt was too much, and it took him about two seconds to get up in Ice´s face, their noses only inches apart. Ice looked about ready to murder him, and something about the whole situation was making Mav incredibly turned on.

 

“What the fuck did you just say?”

 

“You heard me Mitchell…..”

 

Ice opened his mouth to say something more, but Maverick just couldn´t take it anymore. Enough was enough. Without warning he dived forward, pushing Ice back against the wall, crutches hitting the linoleum with a resonating bang as Ice lost his balance. Blue eyes widened in something close to shock as Maverick did the unthinkable.

 

 

He kissed Ice, who´s lips had already been slightly parted, forcing his tongue inside Ice´s mouth. It only lasted for a few seconds, and he could have sworn Ice was starting to kiss him back, just as the door opened abruptly and Maverick was forced to hastily step away.

 

Jester was standing in the doorway, looking at a loss, taking in the scene.

 

Ice was pressed up against the wall, lips slightly swollen as Maverick´s hands were fisted in the front of his uniform, keeping him in place. The crutches were on the floor along with a bunch of loose papers – Mav couldn´t even remember tearing them down, but suddenly the debris normally cluttering his desk was all over the floor.

 

Ops.

 

“Uh….I heard….I heard shouting”, Jester awkwardly declared, looking between them with obvious uncertainty.

 

Mav swallowed, stepped away from Ice, who made a point out of trying to correct his now rumpled uniform.

 

“Yeah…sorry about that…..uh…Kazansky lost his crutches”, Mav said lamely.

 

“Okay”. Jester did not look entirely convinced.

 

Ice sent him a withering look, raising a very unimpressed eyebrow when Mav proceeded to hand him said crutches. He bared his teeth without smiling, canines gleaming like those of a shark, before promptly crutching his way out of Mav´s office.

 

Maverick stared after him, absently licking his lips. Ice tasted like winter, like peppermint and shaved snow.

 

And it was fucking delicious.

 

 

***

 

 

 

Unsurprisingly Ice was avoiding him.

 

Mav had decided that the two of them teaching together was probably not a good idea, and left Ice to his own devices. According to Jester he was doing fine teaching on his own, and thus Maverick had chosen to withdraw temporarily to his office under the pretence of catching up on his paperwork, when he was actually plotting his next move.

 

Not that his scheming had been very productive.

 

On Wednesday he decided to go and find Ice, but to his total frustration Ice was nowhere to be seen. By Friday he felt certain that Ice was doing it on purpose. How the fucker managed to stay off his radar with crutches and all was a total mystery, and he was forced to ask a secretary for Ice´s schedule, deciding to ambush him after class.

 

And sure enough, as the students came rushing through the doors at the end of the day Mav made his way inside the classroom, catching Ice just as he got to his feet, supported by the crutches.

 

“Kazansky”.

 

Ice spared him a purposefully uninterested glance. He had his game face on, expression stony and eyes unreadable.

 

“Mitchell”.

 

“I was thinking maybe we should talk, my office”, Mav said after a moment´s silence.

 

He realized the mistake the moment the words left his mouth.

 

“What, so that you can try and molest me again?” Ice leered, voice dripping with malicious intent.

 

Shit, this conversation was not going as he had envisioned. He tried to calm down. No, he told himself resolutely, do NOT let him goad you into another fight.

 

“O´club then?”

 

Ice stared at him.

 

“Fine……you are buying”.

 

Maverick supposed he deserved that one.

 

 

***

 

 

After 45 minutes Maverick was convinced Ice had stood him up. He glanced at his watch for what had to be the thousandth time, scanning the room for any sign of Kazansky. He was sitting alone by the bar, nursing a whiskey and wondering if this was some kind of childish revenge on Iceman´s part.

 

Kissing him had been stupid, he knew that. Still, the temptation had been too great. There was something about Iceman that drew him in, that made his blood sing. Granted that he was a handsome son of a bitch, but Mav knew there was more too it than looks. Whereas Charlie had offered stability and security Iceman represented something entirely different. Passion, excitement…desire.…..

 

“Scotch, neat” someone purred to his right, so close he could feel the cool minty breath on his neck.

 

He jerked in surprise, turning abruptly to stare right into Ice´s face a mere inch away.

 

“Jesus Christ!” Maverick started, wondering how Ice had gotten there without him noticing. Being that stealthy with crutches should not be possible.

 

Then Mav realized how close they were, his breath hitching in his throat. Ice´s eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, one perfect dark eyebrow quirking upwards as he looked Mav straight in the eyes. Mav could feel his heart rate increase and his pants tighten. Shit!

 

“Scotch, neat”, Ice repeated, purposefully pronouncing each word as if he was talking to a child.

 

Maverick felt that cool breath on his face again; the fucker had probably just brushed his teeth.

 

“What!?”

 

“You are buying”.

 

“Oh, right”.

 

Maverick waved a bartender over, and tried to ignore the stab of irritation when the girl batted her eyelashes one time too many at Ice. The scotch arrived shortly afterwards, and Mav tried to hide his nerves by downing the rest of his whiskey, promptly ordering another one.

 

“You wanted to talk, so talk”, Ice said, blunt as always.

 

“You can´t question me in front of the class Ice, its unprofessional”.

 

Ice leaned into his personal space again, and Maverick could smell his cologne; all pine needles, evergreen and smoky wood.

 

“Apology not accepted”

 

It was just like the arguments they used to have in the locker room back in the old days, the only problem being that Ice had clothes on. Sure, the bastard looked great in jeans but Mav would have preferred a towel, or even better, nothing at all.

 

“What exactly am I apologizing for?” Maverick asked. “You are the one who turned up an hour late”.

 

Ice smirked. “Afraid you´d been stood up?”

 

Had this been a few years back Maverick would have punched him the face. However it was not. Ice hadn´t seen him in 8 years, and since then he had gotten his temper under control, sometimes at least.

 

“If this is about the kiss I am not fucking sorry! In fact I might just do it again” he threatened.

 

“You wouldn´t, you don´t have the balls”

 

“Watch me!”

 

Maverick leaned forward, intent on going through with it. Ice looked slightly taken aback, a glint of hesitation evident in his eyes as he pulled away.

 

“Balls hu? You wanna move this discussion to my place?” Maverick questioned.

 

It came out as a challenge rather than a proposition, which was probably why none of them felt like backing down. They fed of off the confrontations, and there was no way in hell Ice would ever give him the satisfaction of chickening out.

 

“Don´t you have a kid?”

 

“He is with Charlie”.

 

 

***

 

They drove separately to Mavericks place. He arrived first of course, parking the ninja in the driveway and coming to sit on the porch while he waited for Ice.

 

Another argument ensued when Ice arrived five minutes later and Maverick accused him of driving like an old lady. Needless to say he did not take kindly to the comparison. Mav briefly wondered why they always ended up arguing. Somehow he found himself actively searching out Ice just to pick a fight with him, to feel that raw untamed tension that was such a turn on.

 

After shouting at each other for the better part of 15 minutes they ended up in the living room, sharing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s that Mav had kept hidden behind the fridge for

sometime.

 

“I am sorry about….you know….”, Mav trailed off, taking a sip and offering Ice the bottle.

 

Ice stared at the label for a while, tapping his fingers against the bottleneck. There was a moment when Mav half expected him to wipe it with his jacket sleeve before he drank, but then he simply shrugged and took a large swig.

 

“It is ok Mitchell”, he said, voice surprisingly soft.

 

Then he smirked.

 

“I wanted to off you right then and there, luckily for you I decided it wasn´t worth the jail time”.

 

“As if you´d ever beat me in a fight Kazansky!”

 

“Easy, I could just bash your skull in with one of the crutches”.

 

Maverick barked out a laugh, shaking his head in a combination of amusement and disbelief.

 

“I thought you didn´t need those”.

 

“Fuck you Mitchell!”

 

“Bedroom´s that way”, Mav said, gesturing at the staircase.

 

They stared at each other. Ice gave him the once over, eyes lingering a little longer than what was strictly necessary. Mav raised both eyebrows rudely at him, all shyness forgotten thanks to the Jack Daniel´s.

 

“What – you bailing Ice-man?”

 

Maverick could literally see the wheels turning as Ice thought it over, sharp gaze fixed at Mav´s face.

 

“You have to help me up the stairs”, he said eventually, voice a dark drawl, husky and velvety smooth. Somehow it was the sexiest thing Mav had ever heard.

 

 

***

 

 

They were both drunk as fuck and it took them at least ten minutes to actually get to the bedroom. Without the crutches Ice had to balance most of his weight on his right leg, his arm and left side supported by Maverick who was more than a little unsteady.

 

“I swear to god Mitchell….if I fall down the stairs because of you…..”

 

“Yeah yeah, you´ll be fine…..not worth the jail time remember”.

 

They stumbled into the bedroom and Ice let himself fall backwards onto the bed. He had somehow gotten rid of his jacket on their way up the stairs, and Mav just couldn´t help but stare at how that tight black t-shirt hugged his broad chest. He turned on the bedside lamp, the warm lighting bathing everything in a soft golden glow, shadows playing across Ice´s face, extenuating the masculine curve of his jaw and the sharp angel of his cheekbones.

 

Mav watched Ice shed his t-shirt and unbuckle his belt, moving over to help slide off his jeans and socks. His gaze travelled down the length of Ice´s body, taking in the lightly tanned skin and chiselled physique. There was some silvery scarring on his left leg, down his inner thigh, stopping right below the knee. Mav´s dick was throbbing in his pants.

 

He was beautiful.

 

Ice smirked, shifting to place his arms behind his head in a display of complete shamelessness. Mav swallowed, flushing.

 

“Strip”, Ice ordered, voice leaving no room for negotiation.

 

Standing there, Ice´s eyes watching his every move as he undressed he felt like fucking luckiest man alive. His hands were shaking as he undid his fly, sliding his pants and underwear down. He was pleased to hear Ice´s sharp intake of breath as he let the last piece of clothing fall to the floor.

 

Ice pushed himself up on his elbows, gazing at him with dark hooded eyes. He didn´t have to say anything, the look was enough - You coming? Yeah, Maverick thought, fuck yeah!

 

A split second later they were wrestling around on the bed, lips locked in a rather rough kiss. Just like in his office Ice tasted all fresh and minty; Mav thought he could just get completely lost in him. The taste, the smell, the feel of that hard body against his, Ice´s hands in his hair, at the back of his neck, teeth sinking into Maverick´s lower lip and drawing blood.

 

When they finally broke for air Maverick found himself pinned, Ice looming over him, pupils dilated and short of breath. Seeing him like that; flushed and exited, eyes heady with arousal, it was exhilarating.

 

Ice was all over him, kissing and biting at his neck, slowly making his way south. God he was good. Mav felt as if he was about to burst. The other man was kissing and sucking at his nipples, one hand sliding down to stroke his member.

 

“God, Ice! Fuck…!”

 

He trailed off, closed his eyes and groaned as Ice moved further down, playfully running his tongue over Mav´s stomach. Then the hand disappeared, and Ice ran his tongue over the length of Mav´s cock, from base to tip, before taking it in his mouth. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked, letting Mav trust deeper into his mouth. Maverick was in absolute heaven, head thrown back and hands fisted in Ice´s hair. When he finally came he saw stars, moaning Ice´s name several times in quick succession.

 

They stared at each other for a moment. Mav was drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, while Ice was hovering just above him, resembling some kind of dangerous predator. His eyes were burning, and Mav lifted one arm, running the palm of his hand over the side of Ice´s face. He felt surprisingly hot to the touch.

 

“Your turn”.

 

Ice just looked at him, for once not having anything smart to say as Maverick pushed him down on his back. He ran his hands testily over the silvery scar on Ice´s inner thigh, fascinated by the feel. He wanted to ask whether it hurt, but was distracted when Ice moaned low in his throat. Watching Ice come apart because of him – it was probably his most erotic experience to date.

 

Ice stretched out on his good side afterwards, still basking in the afterglow as he curled up to sleep. Somehow it went unspoken than he would stay the night.

 

Maverick watched him doze off, sighing contentedly as he lied down beside him. Not quite close enough to touch, but almost. Something told him that Ice wanted to be left alone, for whatever reason.

 

He could respect that.

 

For now.

 

 

 

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

**The one that got away**

**Chapter 3**

Miramar, California 1994

The morning light was filtered through the blinds, light and shadow playing in complicated patterns over Ice´s smooth, tanned back. He was in the same position as last night, stretched out on his good side, and Mav was pretty sure he hadn´t moved since falling asleep.

 

Maverick had been awake for about an hour, and was itching to touch the other man. To just run one hand down that muscular back, tread his fingers through the short blond hair. He shifted onto his stomach, eyes still on Ice´s unmoving form. The sheets were barely covering that firm round ass, and if he craned his neck he could glimpse the silvery scar that ran down Ice´s inner thigh.

 

Last night had been everything he´d ever wanted. Despite his cold and occasionally bitchy demeanour Ice was everything he´d ever wanted.

 

Oh fuck it, he had to touch!

 

He ran one hand through Ice´s hair, marvelling at the thick luxurious texture. That was about as far as he got before Ice sat up abruptly, his elbow missing Mav´s face by less than an inch.

 

“The fuck Mitchell!?”

 

“Morning”, Mav purred, grinning.

 

Ice sent him an arctic glare, running one hand through his messed up hair. He looked tired, pissed and very fuckable.

 

“What do you want for breakfast?” Mav asked him. “I´ve got beer, left over pizza…..or maybe you want something else entirely….?” He trailed off, voice suggestive.

 

He was about to say something more when the phone rang, making them both jerk in surprise. Or rather, making Mav jerk in surprise. Of course Iceman didn´t do surprise. Amusement flashed in his eyes when Mav scrambled out of bed, jogging naked out into the hall to answer, cursing under his breath as he went.

 

This had better be important he thought, feeling very aware of the fact that Ice was still in his bedroom, naked.

 

“Pete”, the voice at the other end sounded short and clipped, and very unhappy.

 

Shit!

 

It was Charlie.

 

He noisily cleared his throat. “Uh morning, everything alright with Nick?”

 

“Yes, Nick is fine”, she answered, vice softening fractionally.

 

“Okay?”

 

“You served microwave pizza again Pete, and he was not in bed before 11…..”.

 

Oh fuck, not this again.

 

“Look, Charlie….he really wanted pizza…I…..”

 

“Pete, he is a child, of course he wants pizza. You have to get your act together when he is around, be a father to him.”

 

He zooned out on the rest of the conversation, for the thousandth time promising that it would never happen again, that he would cook proper food the next time, that Nick would be in bed at 9….and the list went on. Deep down he knew that Charlie was right, that he should try and make more of an effort. It was just that this wasn´t him. He couldn´t cook anything but bacon and eggs, his place was always rather messy, he should probably do the laundry more often. He was not and would never be domesticated, not the way Charlie wanted anyway.

With a sigh he strolled back into the bedroom, making a face when he realized that Ice had pulled his jeans back on.

 

Damn it!

 

“Leftover pizza it is”, Mav said.

 

The statement was ignored. “You have to help me downstairs”, Ice responded instead, voice flat.

 

“Yeah, sure”.

 

Ice pulled his t-shirt on while Mav quickly dressed in sweats and a wifebeater, not bothering with socks. The mood had shifted, suddenly feeling strained and awkward. He is uncomfortable Maverick realized, offering an arm for support as Ice shakily got to his feet. They staggered down the stairs, Ice leaning heavily against him. Mav wondered again exactly what kind of injury Ice had sustained, promising himself to call up Ice´s CO first thing on Monday.

 

To his disappointment Ice donned his leather jacket the moment they reached the kitchen, apparently having no intensions of staying.

 

“No breakfast?” Mav questioned.

 

Ice just shrugged noncommittally. He seemed off somehow, preoccupied. He left without further delay, and Mav watched from the porch as he backed the car out of the driveway. Part of him wanted to chase the car down the street, shouting at Ice to man the fuck up and come back for breakfast.

 

Does he regret yesterday? The notion made something clench deep in his chest, and he padded back inside, no longer in the mood for leftover pizza.

 

 

***

 

 

By Monday afternoon Maverick was yet again certain that Ice was avoiding him. He was torn between anxiousness and anger, having no idea what would be the appropriate response. Should he give Ice some space, let him think things over on his own?

 

Then again that would entail allowing Ice to chose the time and place for their next encounter. Which would give him the upper hand – and that, was fucking unacceptable.

 

Shit!

 

This whole thing had gotten way out of hand. He should have known that starting something with Ice would mean trouble. When had the two of them ever done anything but bicker, fight and cause drama?

 

Then again he couldn´t seem to leave Ice alone either. He was like a magnet, and Maverick was simply incapable of keeping his distance. On top of it all he was very much aware of the fact that if this thing between them, whatever it was, didn´t work out, it was likely to cause him his friendship with Ice. Not that they had ever been friends to begin with.  

 

Either way the “friend” label was not an option anymore, not after Friday. Maverick had come to the conclusion that being friends with Ice was no longer enough.

 

He wanted more.

 

With a sigh he tiredly rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Ice´s file. It was open, papers strewn about. Ice´s CO had gotten someone to fax over the medical reports detailing Ice´s injuries. A pretty depressing read in Mav´s opinion.

 

Ice´s left leg was broken in three places, and after something like four surgeries the prognosis was good, apart from the fact that it would take quite some time before it healed completely. His right ankle had been fractured, a few ribs busted, and probably a shitload of emotional trauma.

 

The doctors estimated a minimum of six months before he´d be let back in a fighter jet, and as far as active duty went, a year? Two? Maverick had no idea. Ice had lost his wingman, and his RIO had been paralyzed from the waste down. Mav knew better than anyone what shit like that did to a person.

 

Even if Ice was well enough physically to go back into battle in a years time there was the question of his emotional state. He´d red the rest of Ice´s file, and he´d been pretty much shipped from one war to the next, always in the midst of things, always flying the riskiest missions.

 

Even Tom “Iceman” Kazansky was human, and nerves of steel be damned, a person could only take so much.  

 

***

He ended up giving Ice till Wednesday. However that was as far as his patience held. He´d had enough sleepless nights over Tom fucking Kazansky. If the bastard couldn´t get his act together and handle this like a grown up Mav was prepared to force him.

 

Unfortunately his resolve faltered when he spotted Ice in the parking lot at the end of the day. Maverick had been waiting by Ice´s car for the last 10 minutes, casually leaning against the sleek vehicle. It was typical of Ice to drive something like this, some sporty german number, a BMW.

 

Ice´s eyes narrowed dangerously when he spotted Mav, and he promptly crutched his way over at unhealthy speeds.

 

“What are you doing with my car Mitchell?” He demanded, voice cool but with a dark edge to it. Obviously Mav´s presence was not appreciated one bit.

 

Mav smiled, affectionately patting the polished black hood. “Nothing, just waiting for you”.

 

Ice glared at him, clearly suspecting that something was amiss. Initially Mav´s plan had involved an argument, probably some shouting and then hopefully makeup sex at his or Ice´s place. Looking at Ice now, at his tired expression, the way he was leaning heavily against the crutches - that went right down the drain.

 

“Um, you wanna grab something to eat?” He asked instead, doing his best to appear nonchalant.

 

Ice gave him a weird look. “Now?”

 

“Sure, its dinner time, and I can´t cook for shit. So yeah, now is good”. Shit, fuck, damn it! He was rambling. How was it that Ice always seemed so cool and unmoved while he himself ended up being a blabbering mess?

 

“Okay”, Ice said, sounding somewhat uncertain.

 

Maverick grinned, unable to hide his enthusiasm. Ice simply stared contemplatively at him, poker face in place as per usual.

 

 

***

 

They ended up in an old school Italian place at the outskirts of town, all brick walls, worn leather boots and candle lights. It was perhaps a bit more romantic than Maverick had originally intended, but he was too nervous too give it much thought.

 

“This your idea of a casual dinner?” Ice asked him once they were seated, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

 

Mav just shrugged. “Beats microwave pizza”.

 

“Yeah, must get boring eventually”.

 

“What?”

 

“Leftover pizza for every meal”.

 

“Oh shut up Kazansky, like you are any better!” Mav snapped, an angry blush creeping up his face. What was it with Ice and pushing his buttons? First Charlie and now him!?

 

“As a matter of fact I am”, the bastard responded rather haughtily, trademark smirk in place.

 

Mav was just about to smack him with some witty retort when their waiter arrived, disrupting the argument. He managed to calm down a little, refocusing his attention on how good Ice looked. Despite the tense jaw and the tiredness that was clearly evident in those sharp eyes he was still the most beautiful creature Mav had ever laid eyes on.

 

And the most annoying.

 

“You are avoiding me”, Maverick said at length. Delicacy had never been his strong suit.

 

“I was avoiding you, now I am not”.

 

Mav simply rolled his eyes. “Yeah right!”

 

Ice leaned forward, fingers stapled thoughtfully together as he stared at Mav, those piercing blue eyes so intense that Mav was forced to look away. It was not a comfortable silence, and when he glanced back at Ice the fucker was still gazing intensely at him.

 

“What do you want from me Mitchell?” Ice asked, voice low, tinged by some emotion Maverick couldn´t quite place.

 

What did he want? He wanted Ice, everything, all of him. Whatever messed up stuff that entailed, he wanted it.

 

“I…don´t..I “. Oh for fucks sake. “You, I want you”.

 

Ice looked slightly taken aback, his stone faced expression faltering for only a moment. Maverick´s mind involuntarily wandered back to that moment Friday night, when he´d given Ice that hand job and Ice had let go completely, face flushed, lips parted, eyes closed.

 

He shifted uncomfortable in his seat.

 

This was not the appropriate time nor place for a boner.

 

Ice was still staring, still composed, although his demeanour appeared cautious, bordering on hesitant. “I am not the same person”, he said slowly. “I am not like I was back then, at Top Gun”.

 

“I know”, Mav responded, voice soft.

 

“No you don´t”.

 

Had it not been for the obvious frustration in Ice´s voice Mav would have gotten angry again, but there was something about the way Ice was acting that was strangely out of character.

 

“Look, Ice, what are you trying to say?”

 

They looked at each other, and Ice hesitated, bit his lip, shifted uncomfortably.

 

“I don´t know if I have anything to offer you”, he said at last, voice small.

 

It was such an un-Iceman thing to say that Mav found himself completely at a loss.

 

“Wha…what do you mean?”

 

“Don´t you get it Mitchell!? – I am damaged goods for fucks sake, there is nothing for anyone anymore”.

 

Mav opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking for the right words.

 

“Well, I don´t care!” He spluttered, slamming his fist into the table top so that the silverware fell to the floor.

 

A couple seated nearby looked their way with badly concealed curiosity, and Ice narrowed his eyes at Maverick in a death glare. Of course arrogant by the-book Kazansky could not tolerate anything but impeccable table manners. For once Mav found himself immune however, glaring straight back.

 

“You are an arrogant, self possessed bastard Kazansky, but I never took you for stupid”.

 

“Lower your fucking voice”, Ice hissed back, teeth bared in an angry, shark like expression that would normally cause Mav to back off.

 

“Then shut the fuck up and accept that I want you, unless you want me to cause a scene - kiss you for example?” Maverick threatened.

 

Unlike Ice he was way past caring about the other people in the room. Granted that advertising their little thing in public was a terrible idea, but he found that for once he didn´t give a damn about that either. The notion that Ice was avoiding him because of some kind of self-esteem crisis was so unexpected that everything else paled in comparison.

 

“You are unbelievable”, Ice responded, incredulous.

 

Then he leaned back in his chair, scowling as a waiter cautiously approached with their food. Mav had ordered lasagne, Ice some kind of spaghetti with clams. They locked eyes, silently agreeing to drop it.

 

For now, Maverick thought.

 

For now.

 

There was no fucking way he was letting Ice off the hook permanently, not after that. Something was clearly up with him, and whatever it was Mav felt determined to figure it out. Granted that all that emotional crap was not his forte, but for Ice he´d do his best.

 

Hell, for Ice he´d do pretty much anything, although the bastard would never know!

 

 

***

 

 

The mood was more relaxed, and the couple from earlier had stopped staring. Ice seemed relatively at ease again, sipping a glass of some fancy white wine.

 

They talked about the latest class for a while, arguing over who would take the trophy in four weeks time. Predictably enough Ice had gone with Eagle because of his technical proficiency, while Mav felt certain that Coyote would come out on top despite the odd sounding call sign.

 

“Of course you would, he is a real show off”, Ice said, rudely arching his eyebrows.

 

Mav rolled his eyes, although part of him felt inclined to agree. Coyote certainly didn´t lack in the confidence department, and he was very much aware that he was not that different from the Pete Mitchell that arrived at Top Gun back in 86.

 

“Eagle huh? Typical of you to go with technical proficiency over real talent”.

 

“Talent is pretty useless if the first thing you do in the air is getting yourself killed because of some stupid stunt”, Ice said, radiating superiority.

 

“Yeah, well, if it is any consolation I have gotten a bit more cautious since 86”.

 

Ice looked at him, intrigued. “I think I have gotten more reckless”, he said.

 

Maverick almost chocked on his beer. Ice looked like he was mentally kicking himself for that last comment, but he too smiled ever so slightly when Mav burst out laughing.  

 

“Reckless huh?”

 

“Occasionally”.

 

“So, you feeling reckless enough to drop by my place on Friday? – I´ll cook microwave pizza for you”.

 

Ice was sporting that infamous poker face again, looking at Maverick with a cool assessing stare. It was so fucking annoying, the way he could look right through you, and yet it was utterly impossible to tell what he was thinking. No matter how hard he tried Mav could never replicate that coolness, and it was irritating as hell.

 

“Okay, but I´ll cook. You can shop for groceries”.

 

“You sure you trust me with that?”

 

“I´ll make you a list”.

 

Mav opened his mouth to say something, but Ice beat him to it: “Textbook style”.

 

tbc 

 

 

 


End file.
